Foundation is everything...

Today was a first for me: I went to a photography expo. It was fun and I learned so much. I went with a friend who wants to learn more about landscape photography... and is smitten with the new Nikon mirrorless cameras. There were some amazing photographers giving presentations, and everyone shared tips and techniques. And the whole day was free, courtesy of Kenmore Camera.

And thanks to a presentation by Nikon's national training specialist, I think I've settled on the perfect wide-angle lens for landscape photography, finally.

A little light reading...

Winter is usually when I catch up on my reading... I devour new releases from my favorite fiction writers, loving those chilly days spent by the wood stove, sipping a mug of tea, with a cat on my lap.

But this year I made myself a promise: to get outside more, no matter the weather. To walk the trails and drive the back roads looking for photographs. To focus on photography books instead of fiction, to keep learning.

Today, DW went in search of plumbing supplies for our expanding laundry room project. Oh joy. But I tagged along, and read this while I waited in the car. It's a tough read in many ways, but stuffed with great information. And since most of my photography is landscapes, and since in our climate you take what you can get when it comes to weather and light, I hope the book will be a valuable resource.

In search of...

Today it was supposed to rain. But when I got up, the clouds were breaking up and the sky was too
interesting to ignore. Because of a cold and sore throat, I'd already begged off from my sewing group. So there was nothing to keep me indoors.

So I took off for the back roads, heading south to the Enumclaw Plateau in search of barns, farmhouses, and lone trees. With fingers crossed for a glimpse of Mount Rainier.



And before it started to pour, I found everything I hoped for. I stuck to the unfamiliar roads, and found this old farm, with two old barns, bare trees, and sheep. As I got out of the truck, a great blue heron flew overhead, close enough to touch, heading for the pond that's just out of the photo. This turned out to be the lull before the storm; the sky to the west was beginning to break up and patches of blue were peeking out. Twenty minutes later, the rain started and never stopped. We got more than an inch of rain today.

The Enumclaw Plateau has my favorite collection of barns and farms, and today I found barns, trees, foothills full of snow, and even an old red truck. But the mountain never made an appearance.

. . . . . . .

Linking up with the Backroads Traveler's Barn Collective.

Scene and story... December 2016

To me, winter was always the season to spend indoors, reading and sewing, sitting by the fire with a cat on my lap. And maybe I'd get some of those chores done... like cleaning out closets.

There were years when spending time outdoors in the winter was required, and I got used to being cold all day when we skied, and cold when I had a horse, and exercising the beast was a requirement no matter how cold or rainy or snowy it got.

But that changed in August of 2015, when we decided to go out to find a geocache every day, until we hit 500 days in a row. Now I find myself going out in all kinds of weather, and I look forward to it for much more than just that one geocache.

A day in December brought that home in a big way. DW and I started the day with a walk on a section of the Snoqualmie Valley trail near Preston. The morning was foggy and beautiful, and the trail beckoned me to come explore. We found our geocache, and as I turned to follow DW back to the Pilot, the early morning light took my breath away. I dropped everything to grab my camera and record this scene.

The rest of the day we explored the back roads, and were treated to stunning views of the Cascades dressed in the season's first real blanket of snow.

. . . . .

My friend, Sarah, has a new linkup on her blog, Paisley Rain Boots. Each month, we'll post a photograph from the previous month, and write a bit about it. This is mine.

Better late...

This little photo shows what I love to look for in the woods... the detail of rock and moss and leaf and bark that when joined together, makes a forest.

. . . . .

Four years ago I set a goal for myself: to learn more in-depth the photo editing software I've used for years, Photoshop Elements. I know so many people who have moved on to Lightroom, and I'd love to do the same. But this is the software I have, and I know there are better ways to edit my photographs.

On the last day of the year, I went through my photographs in search of one photo to illustrate each month. As I browsed, I was disappointed to see so many dull photos that didn't tell a story. While I'd prefer to not take this kind of photograph, that's another goal. I don't want to have to tweak my photographs. But if a quick fix will bring life to a photograph, I'd like to know the best way.

And as I learn new skills, I'll practice on those disappointing photographs, instead of just deleting them.

2016 in photos...

Posting my favorite photograph from each month of the year is something I've not done before. I always thought it would be too hard to choose just one picture. But what I learned is that sometimes, the opposite was true. For some months this year, I had to look hard to find a photograph I really liked. That has given me much food for thought. In any case, here are my favorite pictures of the year. I hope you enjoy them!


In January we spent a weekend in Ellensburg with friends, and on the last day I went out in a snowstorm to photograph the farms and barns on the hillside where they live. I have a lot of favorite pictures from that afternoon, and most have never been published before. Because of the blowing snow, the photographs from that day look more like paintings.

In February, it rained. And it rained. And then it rained some more. Rainfall records were broken. I'm not sure it ever stopped, based on the number of photos with rain droplets, and photos of flooded pastures! But it made for a lot of interesting, if soggy, opportunities.

March was a month to explore county open space parks, in search of geocaches, but also in search of new trails close to home. We did two geocaching events, one on the cold side of the state. There were no good photos from that weekend, sad to say. My favorite place we explored during the other event was an old soldier's cemetery near Orting, high on the side of a hill. I loved the solitary cross amidst the sea of plain white stones.

In April, we started planning road trips for the summer and fall, and jump-started the season with a trip to Leavenworth to visit friends. We walked prairies in bloom in SW Washington. And the cherry trees bloomed.

 


May brought us to our cabin for our annual "opening" day. It was Madison's first visit, and we took one of our favorite drives, circumnavigating Hood Canal. In one of the state parks along the canal, I pulled the tall grass away from the base of a tree, and found this perfect nest.

In June, Madison turned one year old. She's been a complete joy ever since she moved home with us last December. We hit the road for a couple of weeks in Oregon, with hiking near Mount Hood, and geocaching near Bend.

In July I helped with my quilt guild's annual quilt show, and my Aussie sister and brother-in-law arrived for a visit. But I confess that the event in July that sticks in my mind is a different encounter: with a baby timber rattlesnake. I was reaching for a geocache at the base of a tree, and lucky for me, the tiny snake wasn't in the mood to be social.

In August I sprained my ankle, my African violet bloomed (a big deal, really!), and we toured the Boeing Everett plant for the first time ever. It's true that it's a good thing to play tourist in your own town once in a while! Best of all, we spent a week in Walla Walla and the rolling hills of the Palouse. And I finally got to see this spectacular old barn with its fence of wheels.

September brought the long-awaited road trip, to Colorado by way of Utah, and home through Montana. We hiked on the Continental Divide, discovered petroglyphs in a little-seen canyon, and went fishing on Blue Mesa. And I had another encounter with a rattlesnake, a full-grown one this time.

But the coolest thing I did in September was babysit a fire lookout for four nights. At a mile high, the air was crystal clear and the weather was picture perfect, and we had a stunning view of Mount Rainier. We sat up late and watched the stars, and woke at first light to photograph the dawn's light hitting the mountain. It was hard to choose just one picture from the hundreds I took during those four days, but I do love this one, taken just before dawn on the third morning.

Fall came late this year, and by mid-October the leaves had only just begun to turn color. We made our fourth trip around Mount Rainier, this time spending a few nights and doing some hiking south of the mountain.

In November we spent a few days at the cabin, unfortunately during a stormy period. On the one sunny day, we drove up Puget Sound to Port Townsend and Port Angeles, then back along Hood Canal. It's one of our favorite drives, and we always try to do it in the fall, when the trees are changing color. This time we were lucky enough to catch the passenger boat arriving in Port Orchard.

The first snows of the season came in December, and that was enough incentive to spend a cold, snowy day exploring the Snoqualmie Valley. We know it well, all the back roads and the views, but snow on Mt. Si completely changed the landscape. It may be the only time I've seen the Snoqualmie River lined with trees just changing to fall colors, with Mt. Si covered in snow.

Well, that's it... 2016 officially ends in just a couple of hours. I have great hopes for 2017!

Beginnings...

At the beginning of 2016, on the last day of a weekend spent with friends in Ellensburg, I headed out to take pictures before we headed for home. And found myself in the middle of a blizzard, flying solo with the Pilot and my camera, freezing my bones but finding some beautiful scenery.

It was really the first time I'd deliberately gone out in a winter storm, by myself. I don't have a track record with driving in the stuff, in spite of living on the cold side of the state for almost 8 years. But today was so beautiful, I decided to risk the roads and explore. My friends live in the midst of old farms and homesteads, some of my favorite subjects. But today I found more than my favorite old barns. Irrigation lines still connected, because the blizzard took the farmer by surprise. A herd of elk, eating hay with a herd of cattle. Draft horses with icicles in their tails. Yellow lichen-covered willow trees, blowing in the wind.

Photography in falling snow is new to me, and I have much to learn about light and white balance when there isn't much light, and the contrast is so extreme. But I had the roads to myself, and the world was magical, and even though I was chilled through, I didn't want to leave.

It hasn't snowed much this winter on the wet side of the state, but I am ever hopeful. We're at the beginning of a cold spell, and snow might be just around the corner. My fingers are crossed that scenes like this one will be possible, without having to travel a hundred miles from home.

Back seat...

    Beaver pond near Koeneman Lake

My camera has taken a back seat to just about everything else lately. Instead I've been quilting, and hiking, and trying to find time to work in the garden when it isn't soggy (which has been hard the past week).

I've gotten out of the habit of carrying my Nikon with me wherever I go, relying instead on my camera phone. But it's just not the same.

I feel different when I have the weight of my big camera in my hands. That I'm doing more than just capturing a brief moment, but instead thinking and focusing and looking for the story. Letting the lens show me the best image, not settling for the first good shot. Changing settings and trying different things, in search of the best photograph.

So my promise for the week, and from now on, is to make sure the Nikon is always with me.

Even if I'm just going downstairs to work on a quilt.

What we don't see...

This leaf caught my eye recently, on a walk in the woods. I only noticed the spiky branch later, when I ran the photography through Photoshop to add my web page title to it. Just goes to show that what we don't see at first may well end up being the most interesting element of the picture.

28 Moments...

This month I'm participating in a class called 28 Moments. It's a writing and photography class, and I'm really looking forward to it. I'll let you know how it goes... it's a commitment, with everything else on my plate right now. But it will be fun. Thanks to my friend, Cathy, for getting me in.

Sun in the city...

We got a miracle this morning... when we headed north the sun actually came out. A beautiful hole in the rain clouds, right over the city. Blue skies, sun, and howling wind on the city streets, but I'll take it. After our meeting in Belltown, we stayed around for lunch. A window seat and a view of Elliott Bay, fish and chips, and the blue, blue sky. Lovely.

After lunch we wandered over to the Lenora Street pedestrian bridge to check out the view. This overpass and elevator was created to give better access to the waterfront below, with a gorgeous view of the waterfront, and art you can sit on:  a wide circular bench made from art tiles.



We walked down the stairs to the waterfront, and I got my wish: subjects for my camera. I've been stuck indoors for so many days, I felt like I'd been let out of detention for a day.

Missed photographs...

Over the Thanksgiving weekend, we shared our Ireland photographs. As I went through our trip, day by day, I thought about the difference between this tour, and how I usually travel. The tour was easy and stress-free, and we saw amazing places. The payoff was not being able to stop wherever I wanted to along the way.



So I did my best. Often when our group was listening to a guide talk about the history of a place, I was listening with one ear while I wandered as far as I could, taking pictures. On this particular day, we spent most of the day driving along the coastline of the Dingle peninsula, and on the narrow Irish roads there were few places where there was room for the coach, and often those places didn't have the best views.













This series of coastline views on the Dingle peninsula will always be a reminder of this tradeoff between a tour and traveling solo. Luckily for me, at the place where the coach pulled over, the view was spectacular. Between the brilliant green fields, the stone walls, the turquoise water, and the distant mountains, I felt like I'd overdose on the sheer beauty of it all.



When we headed down the road, we passed at least a dozen other places where I would have stopped to get a different perspective or a different direction of light. I kept seeing photographs I could have captured, if only I'd been on my own.

Landscapes...

Earth and sky, woods and fields, 
lakes and rivers, the mountain and the sea, 
are excellent schoolmasters, 
and teach some of us more 
than we can ever learn from books.  
John Lubbock

Where the Rockies meet the plains, north of Waterton Lakes National Park

It's what I miss... crave... the most, living on the outskirts of a big city. Those sweeping landscapes you see when you get out and away, over the mountains. Those places where you can look back and see the huge sky, the towering peaks. Wave after wave of dark evergreens flowing down the river valleys toward open grassland, where the wild things graze.

Looking toward the Anthony Lakes Wilderness, from OR-7

It's why I keep going out on the road, in search of those vistas that fill me up like a glass that's full to overflowing, spilling over the rim. Filling me with wonder and delight, with absolute joy. With peace.

Colorado aspens, between Ridgway and Telluride

I've been reading a lot of landscape photography blogs lately, getting inspiration from amazing photographers like John Clement and Jason Savage and Michael Frye, among others.

Heading into winter, when access to my favorite landscapes will be buried in snow, it's a time to dream about other back roads, other places. A time to plan. Next year, a workshop with one of these photographers is definitely on my bucket list.

Foggy mornings...

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg

It was one of those fall mornings, when the sun rises unseen, shrouded in thick fog. Beautiful in its own way, mysterious and cool and damp.

I don't know how to photograph fog. It never turns out the way my eyes see it, or the way it looks in the lens. Maybe that's part of the mysterious side of fog, that it keeps its identity hidden from view, and only lives in our memories.

The art of fishing...

Last fall we stayed at the South Fork Lodge on the Snake River. It's a beautiful place, where you can walk down to the riverbank and drop in a line, or float the river and fish from the boat. The South Fork is a braided river for much of its length, so you can hop out and fish from gravel bars, too.

The lodge reminded me of the classic lodges of the western national parks, with natural wood and soaring windows overlooking the river. The walls were hung with fishing art, prints by famous Yellowstone artists like Thomas Moran and Albert Bierstadt, watercolors of different types of trout, and drawings of classic fishing flies.

Over a glass of cabernet in the bar one night, I got to thinking about all the beautiful imagery that comes with fly fishing. Not just the natural scenery all around when I'm on the river, but also the rod in my hand, the fly that lights on the water to attract the fish, and the gorgeous trout that rise to the fly.

Also beautiful... the shared passion for a time-honored sport. And laughter, and time spent with family.

My still Sunday...

This is a weekly collection of still life photography, hosted by Kim Klassen (who also gathers together photographs for Texture Tuesday and Friday Finds). It's the first time I've played along with this Instagram-only collection, so I thought for this week, I'd also include my photograph here.

I included more of the gorgeous pink roses that I've been photographing lately, plus a favorite sugar spoon, encrusted with roses. The sheet music belonged to my mother, and the Kodak pocket camera was my dad's. Since he was the one who taught me to love photography, I thought it fitting to included a bit of him here.

Still life photography isn't my strong suit, and that's one reason I'm doing this. I'll learn a lot about composition, and I'll learn a lot about my camera in the process.

You can find the entire collection of My still Sunday photographs on Instagram, under #mystillsundaycompetition.

Just one word... 2014

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes,
but in having new eyes.

Marcel Proust

At the beginning of 2014, I decided to play along with a challenge from one of my favorite blog writers: to pick a word to live by during the year. I gave it much thought, and since there was a new dSLR to play with, road trips on the horizon, and maybe a trip to the U.K., I chose "Discover."  To pay extra attention to all that's new and unique in the world around me. To look at familiar places and brand new ones with new perspective, always making sure to look through the lens of my camera.

The U.K. trip didn't happen, but in its place we took a long road trip to western Colorado to visit family, and got to know "the kids" in a new way, as adults. And we discovered a new part of Idaho, with a spectacular backdrop of Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons... and learned to fly fish on two of the West's best rivers.

Time with family, with friends, on the road in my MX-5 roadster, on the river in waders with my fly rod in my hand.

The year could not have been much better.

Vision...

"Vision is a way of seeing and representing the world through our own eyes. It is something we acquire in the course of our own photographic journey rather than copying from others. We learn how others see by studying their work and up to a point, imitating it. But if we are to develop our own vision and style, we must look at ourselves and how we view the world."   – Nigel Baker

I am fairly certain that I'm not the only photographer who looks at websites and blogs, at photograph hosting websites like Flickr and Instagram and Shutterfly. I am intensely curious about the work of other photographers, sometimes to the point of spending hours looking at photographs, to see what caught their interest, and how their imagination... and skill... led them to take that particular image. The hunt for inspiration can easily fill a rainy winter day, when my camera stays on the shelf, waiting for a break in the weather.

Mostly I search for beautiful landscapes, which have always been my passion. When I find an image that really speaks to me, I dissect it. What is the angle of view? Was the photographer standing high above or were they making a belly shot? Where was the light coming from? Was it morning light, or the last few hours of evening? What about the composition appeals to me? If I was standing on that spot, what would I change? And I take that knowledge into the field and put it into use.

In the process of learning from others, I've learned the most important trick of all:  to use my lens to help me find the photograph. So many times I've thought a view was boring, then looked at the same landscape through the lens, and found a beautiful photograph.

This works especially well for smaller views. A single branch or leaf, a raindrop glistening on the edge of a flower, a rim of frost on a cluster of leaves. Then learning to shoot these close-ups with a blurred background, to make the image pop. I've learned so much about macro photography from some of my favorite bloggers.

Setting up vignettes of small items to photograph isn't really my thing, but sometimes I come across some really good ideas and think, I would never have thought of doing that. Like using an old book as a prop to hold some small interesting item. The book provides a lot of texture that enhances the main point of the photograph... and I think it makes the photograph more memorable.

So take a few minutes and explore. Your photography will be the better for it.

Photographing trees

I'm on a mission, now that the leaves have fallen and branches are bare. A mission to find those perfect specimen trees to photograph.

There's one in my neighborhood, just a couple of miles from home. A towering maple tree, which stands straight and full in a corner of the pasture, protecting an ancient wooden barn. It's gorgeous in the autumn in yellow and orange, and in spring wearing bright green. But I've never photographed it in winter.

The best stretch of trees I know is in the wide greenbelt of I-90, between North Bend and Snoqualmie Pass. The trees are spectacular here, all kinds from maples to Douglas fir to alders and vine maples. I never pass this way without wanting to stop and pull out my camera. Unfortunately, the roadway and traffic would be in every shot.

These lone specimen trees aren't all that easy to find, at least not trees that are good candidates for photography. I think the search would be a good project for winter.

Chasing the light...

Friday, 5:50 a.m.

I woke with the light, pulled on jeans and Keds, and headed for the shore. On the way out the door, I grabbed my Nikon.

The lake is flat calm, a mirror. There's no blue in the sky yet, just shades of gray with golden light, and pink streaks in the clouds, and building mist blowing across the surface. Ten minutes later, I'd have missed it. Just ten short minutes, and the mysteriousness was gone, replaced by brighter light and growing distinction in the trees, and more than a hint of blue in the sky.

I've been reading a book called "Reading the Landscape," by photographer Peter Watson. Among the stats for each photograph, he also lists the time he waited to get the shot. I've never seen anyone do this before. Reading this book gives me new appreciation for what a photographer has to do to be in the right place at the right time. There is lots to appreciate in this book on landscape photography, and I recommend it highly.

I didn't have to work hard for this shot, and it might not appeal to anyone but me. But it speaks to me of this small lake that's just outside my cabin windows, just one of the many faces it has shared with me over the past twenty two years.